


The Archer

by Pilgrim_Grey



Series: The Collector [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Poor Clint Barton, Sandwich, Second meeting, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilgrim_Grey/pseuds/Pilgrim_Grey
Summary: Set when Clint was just brought in (read: shot in the leg by Coulson and dragged in) and was being made to train with new recruits. He had been inadvertently taking Coulson’s 'reserved’ sandwich for a few days now but no one told him. He only realized when Coulson turned up early for lunch and commented when he took the sandwich. Cue Clint Barton quietly panicking.





	The Archer

**Author's Note:**

> So, first fanfic here, and in this fandom. I only watch the first season of the Agents of Shield, The Avengers movies, Ironman movies, Captain America movies and the Thor movies. I had not read any of the comics so this is based off my head canon yeah? So don't be too hard on me, please?

“So this is why my lunch keeps disappearing.” His heart skipped a beat although he gave no outward reaction. Clint Barton was not used to someone sneaking up on him. In his line of work ( _former_ line of work), you are dead if you cannot smell someone coming up on you at least half a mile off. Still clutching the turkey sandwich, he turned around to come face to face with the agent who had brought him in (shot him in the leg). “Sir,” he began, then stopped. He was confused.

“That sandwich? It is my lunch,” Agent Coulson (that’s the name!) said blandly. “Your lunch, sir? But it was on the counter, and I put money to c-cover,” Clint stuttered to a stop. “Aye you did, boy, and the sandwich is yours,” came another voice behind the counter. Clint turn sideways to see the cafeteria lady leaning by against the counter and glowering at Agent Coulson. 

“Mary-Jane,” Agent Coulson said evenly. He did not seem angry. “Agent Coulson,” Mary-Jane mocked him in a sing-song voice. “This man here works too hard, boy,” Mary-Jane turned her eyes to Clint. “I am Barton, ma’am,” Clint replied, feeling wrong-footed. He could feel the eyes of his new colleagues on him. They were, after all, in the cafeteria during the lunch hour where so many of the probies and agents were eating. 

“Barton? Interesting name. Anyway, let me tell you boy, Agent Coulson here is always so busy that he never comes down when it is lunch time, always coming in around two, three o’clock looking for a quick bite. And because he is the Big Bad Agent, the others always leave _one_ sandwich, which I _never_ said is for you, Agent Coulson!” Mary-Jane gleefully informed Clint. “So, you are well within your rights to take the sandwich and eat ‘cause you paid for it and if Agent Coulson gets no lunch then p’raps he would come down earlier next time!” She ended that little speech with a cackle. Agent Coulson was still wearing that bland expression. 

Clint could feel the little plastic container containing the sandwich crinkle slightly in his hands. This sandwich was _left_ for Agent Coulson? Why didn’t anyone say anything? There’s so many of them here, even some of the probationary agents he was training with! Why didn’t anyone give him a heads up when he took the last sandwich?!

But he knew. In the deepest of his heart, Clint knew that these agents distrust him, distrust the mercenary brought in from the cold. The older agents knew of his reputation and probably didn’t like the idea of a former hired gun working in _SHIELD_. Those probies, well, Clint had basically out-shot and out-fought just about every one of them, all of whom he was told was handpicked from the best from armed forces all over the country, even from CIA. No wonder he had not made any friends. 

“Here sir. I did not know. I will not take the sandwich again.” He held the sandwich out ( _slightly dented container, it doesn’t matter does it?_ ). He hoped whatever punishment coming would be quick and he won’t need to leave. Although he was initially reluctant and suspicious, he had to admit that having a safe place to stay was doing wonders for him. He had been able to sleep and rest properly without the hyper-vigilance of the hunted. He had not felt this rested in _years_.

Agent Coulson blinked down at the sandwich. “Keep the sandwich, Agent Barton, I am just joking with Mary-Jane. You paid for it, eat it. Mary-Jane will get me something else to it,” he said not unkindly. When Clint did not move, his mouth a stubborn line, Agent Coulson sighed and pushed the sandwich back towards Clint. “Eat. It will not digest itself.”

Clint was still suspicious, but he took the sandwich anyway, collected an orange juice ( _real_ orange juice, none of that orange syrup nonsense) and moved the tray to a table at the corner of the cafeteria after leaving the appropriate sum with Mary-Jane. He had his eyes averted, and absolutely did not stamp on the leg sticking out to trip him like they were in grade school. Idiots, the lot of them, he thought bitterly. He cannot wait until he can graduate from probationary status. At least the he can be more useful and not see these dumb fucks.

Clint took a bite of the sandwich. It was as good as it always was. (But he was still going to leave the sandwich alone tomorrow). Alternating between gulps of orange juice and large bites of sandwich, he quickly finished up his meal and left for the rooms he had been given. He did not see the curious eyes that followed him out of the cafeteria.

Agent Coulson ate his pasta and thought about what to do with the newest asset. He had out-fought and out-shot all the new recruits. Letting him train as a probie was definitely a waste of time. Maybe he can pull some strings... Coulson watched as Clint left te cafeteria alone, no friends calling out or acquaintances greeting him. He had a feeling that Clint Barton was going to surprise him in the days to come.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.   
> This work is posted on tumblr too! Come find me there under https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fictionalfriction


End file.
